The Chronicles of Ruth: Love Lifted Me

by S. R. Morris

Chapter Three

“I’m so happy that you decided to join us watching the basketball game,” said Mary Ann as she greeted Ruth and made room on the bleacher next to her. “We miss you since you began your new job. We miss your laughter and we miss the fact that you always make us laugh, too.”

“Yes, we have really missed you,” said Rhoda. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I miss you too,” countered Ruth as she hugged both girls and sat down. “Since I started my new job, it seems that all I do is work; first at my job and then at home cooking, cleaning, washing dishes and washing clothes. It’s been very hard since mother got sick.”

“How is your mother? I heard she has cancer. Is that true?” Mary Ann asked.

“Yes, it’s true,” replied Ruth. “She is very sick and often has terrible pains. The doctor said there is nothing we can do but make her comfortable. I spend part of my salary buying medicine so she has relief from the pain. The hard part for me is that I have to get my little sister ready for school and make her breakfast and lunch. When I get home from work, I make dinner for mother, father and Rebecca, and then I help her with homework and get her clothes ready for school the next day.

“Sometimes I try to talk to mother and comfort her, but if she is in a bad mood or the medicine makes her sleepy, she cannot talk at all,” continued Ruth. “But I don’t want to talk about my problems. I have been looking forward to coming here to watch this game all week. Are there any cute boys here tonight?”

“That tall boy on the team from Banilad is very cute,” Rhoda said pointing to a boy practicing on the court. “But they say he has a girlfriend already. Some say he is married, but I’ve never seen him with her.”

Ruth looked as she followed Rhoda’s finger pointing to a tall boy near the backboard. She watched as he dribbled the ball, jumped high and easily laid the ball at the rim of the hoop and in. He was very cute, she thought, but probably full of himself.

“It looks like he’s a good basketball player, but I don’t think he’s all that cute,” Ruth said as she waited a few seconds to see her friends’ responses. Then she smiled widely and commented, “Just kidding.”

The girls all laughed together and Ruth really was happy to be with her friends again. They watched the game and shared a bag of corn chips and some soda. They also cheered the team from Banilad, especially when the tall boy scored.

When the game was over the three girls continued to sit and laugh and share stories. At times, Ruth glanced up to see if the tall boy was still there on the court. Finally, she looked up to see him walking toward them and tried to act nonchalant. In reality, her heart was pounding in her chest. If he spoke to her, she hoped she would not make a fool of herself by saying something silly.

“I see you girls really like basketball,” the boy remarked gazing directly into Ruth’s eyes. “You cheered very loud. Do you have a friend on our team?”

“Yes,” Ruth responded, but stopped short because she didn’t know what else to say.

“What’s his name?” the boy asked.

Ruth’s mind began to race. She knew that if she made up a name, she would get caught in a lie. She was already caught in her response that they had a friend on the team. Now, she hoped she could think of something that would keep her from looking silly.

“We used to have a friend on the Banilad team when we were younger,” Rhoda said, saving Ruth from her mouth. “We’ve been fans of the Banilad team ever since.”

“Oh, I see. My name is Joseph, but my friends call me Joe,” the boy revealed, his eyes still fixed on Ruth. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Ruth,” she answered shyly. Then, realizing that he was focusing only on her, she tried to introduce her friends. “This is Rhoda and this is Mary Ann. They are also fans of basketball and Banilad.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Joseph said glancing at the girls, but his focal point returned to Ruth. “I’ve never seen you at a game here before. I think I would have noticed if you had been at one of our games before.”

Again, Ruth was uncertain how to respond, and it was Rhoda who came to her rescue.

“It’s been awhile since she came to the games because her mother has been sick,” stated Rhoda.

Again, there was a pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Joseph sympathized. “I hope she will be feeling better soon.”

“No, she is dying from cancer,” Rhoda interjected again. Then, realizing that her response may have disclosed more than Ruth wanted to reveal, and knowing that the boy had not taken his eyes off Ruth, she grabbed Mary Ann by the arm and said, “Well, we have to go. I know you and Ruth have more to say. It was nice to meet you.”

“Yes, it was nice to meet you, too,” Joseph replied as the two girls walked away. “I’m really sorry to hear about your mother. I hope I will see you again. Can I give you a ride home on my motorcycle?

“No. I will just catch a jeepney. It is only one ride to my home.” Ruth offered. “I need to get home now and check on my mother. I was nice to meet you, too. You are a good basketball player.”

“And you are a good cheerleader,” Joseph said and then added, “You are the prettiest cheerleader we have ever had for the Banilad team.”

Ruth turned and walked away, afraid to turn around that he might see that she was blushing. He really was a cute boy and a very good basketball player. She couldn’t help but notice that he stared at her, paying little attention to her friends. Was he really interested in her, she wondered? More importantly, did he have another girlfriend or wife? If he was really married, she was not interested at all. On the other hand, if he had another girlfriend or was breaking up with her . . . well, he was fair game, she thought.

Her thoughts continued to recall Joe as he played basketball. He was tall and handsome, and he wasn’t shy either. He boldly told Ruth she was the prettiest cheerleader the team had ever had. She blushed again as she remembered Joe’s comment and his offer to give her a ride home on his motorcycle. She was lost in her thoughts and almost forgot to tap her street on the handrail on the van.

If she had not been so absorbed in her own thoughts, she might have noticed the young man on a red motorcycle following Ruth’s van at a reasonable distance. As Ruth walked down her street to the small house at the end of the lane, she never looked up. She didn’t see the motorcycle stop at the top of the street.

*     *     *

“It’s good to see you here again,” said Joe as he sat down next to Ruth. She hadn’t seen him as he approached Ruth and her friends after the game. She had become a regular spectator of the Banilad’s team, and Joe’s biggest fan although she wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Saturday night is my night with my friends, and we all like to watch basketball games,” Ruth declared. “But we don’t want everyone to be mad at us. Some of your other fans may get jealous if you spend so much with us.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Joe laughed. “I spend as much time as I want with whoever I want. Besides, I prefer to spend time with my favorite cheerleader,” he added as he winked at Ruth.

Ruth attempted to stifle the blush she felt rushing to her face. She had become accustomed to Joe’s compliments over the past few weeks, but it still embarrassed her at times because he was so brash in his comments to her. She had been right about Joe. He was a bit conceited, but she wasn’t turned off by his forwardness. In fact, she was even more attracted to him because he was so confident in his abilities, both on the court and off.

“So tell me the truth, Ruth,” Joe said as he stared into her eyes. “I’ve already told you that you’re my favorite cheerleader . . . and the prettiest. So, who is your favorite basketball player?”

She knew Joe expected her to say that he was, but it was normally not her personality to be so brazen. Since she had made some impulsive decisions recently, especially insisting to her father that she would set aside two evenings for herself and her happiness, she thought twice about how she would respond to Joe’s inquiry.

“Well, I’m tempted to say that you are, but then I keep reminding myself that I really don’t know you that well,” Ruth said. “I don’t know where you live, or even if you are single or not.”

“Well, I guess I’m a better detective than you are,” Joe boasted. “I know you’re single and I know you live in Basak.”

“How do you know that?” Ruth asked. “Have you been asking Rhoda or Mary Ann about me?”

Before Joe could answer, Rhoda grabbed Ruth by the arm. “I just got a message from my brother and he said you need to go home now,” Rhoda cut in. “I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s something about your mother.”

Panic struck Ruth as her heart began beating faster and her knees began to wobble. She felt dizzy and her face turned pace. She looked at Rhoda and felt like she might faint.

“Come on. I’ll take you home on my motorcycle,” Joe said as he grabbed Ruth’s hand and led her toward his bike.

#

Copyright 2014 by S. R. Morris

 

 

Has America Gone Crazy?

Has America Gone Crazy? Or is this the beginning of the end of civilization?

S. R. Morris

Before I attempt to answer that question, let me ask one more question. What do you call a civilization when the citizens of the largest city of the country that is looked at as the model for the rest of the world?

Can’t remember? Well, I’d say that the world has seen this before only 200 years ago. It was called the French Revolution. If you don’t remember much about it because you slept through most of your World History classes, let me help you.

Find yourself a copy of a book titled “The Great Controversy” and read chapter 15 titled “The Bible and the French Revolution.” That chapter is about 23 pages long, but it is well worth your time. There are many parallels between what we see now and what was prevalent in French back then.

I’m not going to try to convince you that the protests we see in New York City and Ferguson, Missouri and elsewhere are the same, and only the time and people involved are different. Read that chapter and read any newspaper or turn on the TV news. Then answer the question for yourself.

What do you call a civilization when its citizens march through the city calling for death to law and its law officers? Can you still call it America? The land of the free and the home of the brave?

Copyright 2014 by S. R. Morris

 

The Chronicles of Ruth

By S. R. Morris 

Chapter Two

“Ruth, my child, what can I do to help you today?” Father Seth asked with the smile he always wore. He stood near a table and motioned for Ruth to sit near the room’s only fan. He sat across from her before continuing. “You said you needed to talk about something, and I could tell by your voice on the phone that you are anxious about something. Tell me what’s on your mind.

Somehow, talking to Father Seth always calmed her, but even now the sense of hopelessness was at the forefront of her mind. She hoped that something he could say to her would give her hope, peace and patience to do everything she had to do without complaining. What she needed was something that would help her not give in to the feeling of just ‘giving up.’

“I don’t know where to begin to tell you everything that is on my mind,” Ruth said as she began wringing her hands as she usually did when confronted with major problems in her life.

“Just start at the beginning,” he said. “Tell me the most important thing on your mind and then tell me about the other things, too. Sometimes it all adds up and seems too much for us to handle on our own. I will pray that I can give you an answer that will help you, my child.”

“I’m happy for my new job,” Ruth began. “I’ve made so many new friends and my boss is very nice and he says I’m a good secretary. It feels good to be working at a nice job in a nice office and I’m happy to be helping my family by helping my father and mother with income they really need. But even though it has only been six months, I’m afraid.”

Ruth paused. She kept twisting her hands and looked up into the priest’s kind eyes. “My mother is dying of cancer and my father is drinking every day and I’m doing everything I can to help with everything, but it’s just too much,” she said as she burst into sobs.

Father Seth reached and held Ruth’s hands in his hands. He said nothing and just let her cry until she could go on with her feelings.

“The doctor said she will not last much longer,” Ruth continued between weeping. “I pay for the medication so she is not in too much pain. I hate to see her hurting so much, but there is nothing I can do to help. I know my father loves her, but he is not working anymore. All he does is drink and cries, saying he does not know what he will do when she dies.

“He just keeps drinking all the time and he is not helping. My little sister cries too because she knows mother is dying. I try to help, but it’s not the same. I cook for them all, my mother and father and Rebecca, and I do the laundry, but that’s all I can do. Sometimes I just want to cry too, but it doesn’t help the situation, so I keep it in.”

Ruth sobbed even harder at that admission. Tears were pouring down her face as the priest handed her a tissue to wipe her face and blow her nose. She coughed a few times and tried to gather her composure before speaking again.

“It’s really hard to be the bread winner,” Ruth said. “My father knows that I’m working now and I think that’s why he doesn’t work anymore. Rebecca looks to me for help now that mother is not able to do much. I have no life of my own. When mother dies, I will have to make sure Rebecca finishes high school, so that will be my future for the next four or five years.

“I will be 24 or 25 before I can even begin to think about a life of my own and having a husband and children and family of my own,” she wept again. “Sometimes I just feel like giving up. I’m only 19 and it’s too much for me to handle on my own. Why is God allowing this to happen to me? I just can’t do it by myself.”

With that, Ruth began weeping uncontrollably. Father Seth looked pitifully at her and squeezed her hands, but said nothing. He searched his mind to find the right words to say. He knew that tired expressions and clichés were not what she needed at this time.

“You know Ruth, while you were crying, I was praying that God would give me something to say that would help you,” Father Seth said. “There was a time in the Old Testament when a young woman was held captive by Naaman, the captain of the Syrians. She probably cried a lot when she was first taken captive because she knew she would never see her mother and father again alive. The Bible says she was a servant of Naaman’s wife, so her life must have been very hard. I’m sure she must have felt like giving up sometimes.

“Ruth, my child, have courage. God has not forsaken you. Listen to what God says to you at this time in your life.” The priest turned in his Bible and read from Jeremias. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

“You are very young, Ruth, and although life can be very hard and seems unfair, don’t give in to despair. That’s why God’s word says He has a plan for you, and you must believe that,” Father Seth said as he handed her another tissue.

“But it’s just too hard,” Ruth cried.

“No, you are a strong girl,” the priest answered, “and I’ve seen that you have faith. I know you enjoy being at church. You are loved by all your friends and you always sing with joy in your heart. You must not give up.

“Let me make a suggestion, Ruth,” he said. “Set aside some time for yourself each week. I know you are always at church on Sunday, but set aside for yourself twice a week—maybe Saturday afternoons or evenings after work, and one evening, like a Tuesday or Wednesday so you can do something you want to do. Maybe you could play volleyball here at church or watch a basketball game.”

“But I have no time for that,” Ruth protested. “From the time I get up in the morning, until the time I go to bed at night, I’m cooking for mother and father and Rebecca, breakfast and lunch and when I get home, I prepare dinner and help Rebecca with her studies or some other duty that my mother did before she got sick. I have no time for myself.”

“I understand what you are saying, Ruth, but you must take time for yourself,” persisted Father Seth. “You must set aside some time for yourself. Tell your father and Rebecca that you will not be cooking on Wednesday nights and they must fend for themselves on those nights, or ask an aunt to cook for your mother and Rebecca on those nights.

“Then, take those nights to refresh your spirit by visiting some friends and singing with them and on Saturday nights get involved in sports of some kind,” he continued. “If you do that, you will find that you look forward to those two days in which you do something you enjoy. You will find some hope in the activities of those days and it will be easier to bare the work you do on the other days.”

Ruth’s crying became less intense as she listened to what the priest was saying. She thought how nice it would be if she did not have to prepare and cook for one night a week. She also recalled how long it had been since she had enjoyed watching a basketball game with friends or playing volleyball. Father Seth was right. She did need some time for herself—some time to refresh her spirit. Since she had started the job, she did nothing but work, at the office and at home, and it was wearing her out.

“And you need to set yourself some goals,” the priest added. “You need some long term goals that will take some time to realize, but you can accomplish over the next few years. If you do that, Ruth, I believe you will see your dreams come true.”

That task was a little more difficult. She wasn’t sure exactly was her goals were and she wasn’t certain how she could achieve your goals she after she set them. It was not easy to decide just what she wanted in life since her family was poor and all she had experienced was hardship. She thought it might be easier to think about what she didn’t want.

She remembered how happy her mother had been when she learned she was pregnant with her sister Rebecca. Ruth had been six when the announcement came. She had heard all the stories about when she was born and when she was very young, too young to remember herself. They were happy stories and funny stories and just telling the stories made her mother smile and laugh again. Ruth knew that she wanted to be a mother like that too. The difference was that she wanted a life that was not as demanding as her mother’s life.

Until her mother got sick, her father had been a good provider. Ruth knew that for most Filipino families it took two working parents to make ends meet. Her mother worked from before dawn until late after dark cooking, cleaning and washing clothes, as well as doing little jobs where she could put a little more on the table. Her father had been a good provider, but she helped too. Father also made mother laugh and Ruth knew that the two were still in love with each other.

Maybe that was the difference, she thought. Maybe her mother’s motivation was her love for her husband and her children. But Ruth felt she didn’t have the same motivation. Her life was just a constant drain on her energy and she had no one to make her laugh. Maybe her first goal would be to find a boyfriend, one that could make her laugh. She wanted someone to care for her and make her life more bearable.

“Ruth, are you still listening to me?” asked Father Seth.

She awakened as from a dream.

“Yes, I was listening,” Ruth answered. “I was just thinking about what you said, and I think you’re right. I’m going to take your advice and take two evenings for myself. My family will not starve if I don’t cook for them every night.

“And I’m going to set some goals for myself, too. Thank you Father Seth,” Ruth said as she kissed the priest’s hand.

“I think that if you do that, my child, you will begin to see differently,” he said. “Who knows, maybe you will even find love as a result.”

#

Copyright 2014 S. R. Morris

 

The Chronicles of Ruth

by S. R. Morris

 

Chapter One

 

Ruth sat drinking buko juice as she watched airplanes land at Mactan International Airport. She dreamed of being a passenger on one of the planes, flying away from Cebu and her problems, to another country like America or Australia. It seemed her life had always been complicated and demanding, and she wished she could just fly away.

 

She knew that running away was not the ultimate solution to most of life’s challenges. Father Seth, her priest, had taught her that “God allows life’s challenges to test our faith,” he said. “It is our faith in God that allows us to survive the problems of life and become stronger.” Ruth knew what Father Seth said was true, but she also knew that she had failed many of those tests.

 

“What are you thinking about,” asked a man sitting near her. “You look like you’re lost in thought, or wishing you were on one of those planes.”

 

Glancing in his direction, Ruth noticed the man was well-dressed and spoke nicely. He was right on both accounts, but she didn’t feel like engaging the man in a prolonged conversation. She was accustomed to dealing with men of all ages who thought she was pretty. Some were just friendly because it was part of their personality, while others pursued her for motives that usually resulted in sexual proposals implied or overt.

 

“You’re a very pretty girl, and too pretty to be sitting alone on this nice Saturday afternoon,” the man continued as his handsome eyes took in her petite form. “I’m from Quezon City, just here in Cebu on business. Like you, I enjoy watching the planes take off and land.”

 

Ruth noticed the man’s eyes scanning her form. Although she was short, her petite figure and slender legs made her the envy of other girls and the desire of many men as well. Ruth rarely used any makeup, but it wasn’t necessary. Her long, silky, dark hair, her smooth skin, and her classic Filipina looks made her appear younger than she was. Many friends said they thought she looked like a model and told her so, but Ruth never let vanity be a part of her personality. She knew that her character, what was under the skin, was more important. She truly believed that beauty was only skin deep.

 

She still hadn’t responded to the stranger’s remarks. She was trying to determine his intentions and where he was headed with his comments. Just as she was about to thank him for his recent compliment, he clarified his intentions.

 

“Since I’m only in Cebu for a couple days, I’d love to spend some time with you,” he continued, “and spend some money on you. We could go to a nice restaurant, maybe to a nice club. We can return to my hotel and sleep late. Then, after breakfast in bed, we could spend time shopping for clothes and shoes you like.”

 

Ruth often wondered why some men always assumed she was willing to jump into bed with them at the mention of money, or shopping, or clothes. At first she thought it might be because she didn’t wear a ring on her left hand. But after so many similar propositions from men over the years, she knew it was because there were too many Filipinas who responded exactly the way tourists and businessmen expected them to.

 

“I’m really not interested,” Ruth responded and, without thinking, she continued. “I’m engaged and I was just looking to see what plane he might be arriving on.”

 

Too late, she realized her response didn’t make sense. She didn’t have a ring on her left hand as an engaged girl would have, so the question lingered. Why didn’t she have an engagement ring? He must also know that she was lying because they were too far away to tell which airline’s flight numbers were coming in.

 

“I know life is sometimes not fair. Perhaps his plane will be delayed or maybe he will change his mind.” The businessman paused for a moment before he continued. “I just know that I’m very successful and I wouldn’t mind helping you get the things you’d like to have in life. I’m willing to do that, especially for a pretty girl like you.”

 

“I’m not interested!” Ruth replied again. She looked away. She thought, and was ready to leave her unfinished buko juice, when the man got up and began following two young girls in short skirts. She was happy she didn’t have to leave her juice, but she also recognized there was a sliver of truth in his remark. Life was not fair.

 

Life for Ruth had been difficult, never easy, just as it was for many Filipinos born to poor families. Growing up in Labogon, a baranggay of Mandaue, was challenging in many ways for her mother and her two sisters. Her father was an independent agent, buying surplus items and selling them wherever he could. He was a true entrepreneur before most Filipinos learned what the term meant.

 

Felix, her father, was a good provider most of the times. Whenever he made a good sale, he always treated the family to treats like ice candy or other snacks, in addition to supplying simple meals of rice, meat, fruits and vegetables for the family’s table. His only fault was that he loved to drink alcohol, which was almost every day. He loved to sing and play with the children, which kept them happy, except when he drank too much.

 

Her mother, Rose, was a loving mother and wife, content with her lot in life and filled both roles with the same dedication she displayed in her love for God and the church. Most of her days began early, before the sun rose in the Philippine sky, and was occupied with cooking, washing clothes by hand, and cleaning and caring for her family.

 

Rachel, her older sister, left home when Ruth was still in high school. She married a truck driver for a company in Carcar, about two hours south by bus, and moved there with her new husband. She was happy for Rachel because she had found a friend and husband. Though he had little formal education, he worked hard to provide for her a good life, by Filipino standards. But her leaving left Ruth feeling like she had lost her best friend.

 

Since the family could not afford to pay her fees to attend college, Ruth worked jobs wherever she could. Since she was involved with the youth at her church, some church members helped by hiring her to do house cleaning and laundry. Father Seth again came to her aid and offered to sponsor her to pursue her college ambitions. She enrolled in a Computer Secretarial course at a large Catholic college, worked hard at her studies, and graduated with high grades.

 

Shortly after that, their mother became sick, which left Ruth as the oldest child to care for her younger sister. Rebecca was just finishing sixth grade at the over-crowded elementary School and would begin high school later this year. At the tender age of 19, Ruth began her first day as a secretary at an international company in Cebu. She was excited to be starting a new job, but because her mother was sick and her father was drinking more, she knew she would end up being the family’s bread winner.

 

With the job also came more responsibility for her younger sister. She had to get up earlier and cook breakfast for the family and pack a lunch for Rebecca and herself. Each evening, after work, she had to cook the family’s dinner. She would spend much of the weekend washing clothes for her father and mother, and for Rebecca and herself. Ruth knew it was important that her clothes were clean and pressed because many clients, some from other countries, visited the office, and she wanted to make a good impression.

 

“Would life ever get any easier?” Ruth said to herself. She knew it would only be a matter of time before they would bury her mother. The doctor said she had cancer and it had progressed too far for any medicine to have any long lasting effect. He said the best they could do was to provide relief when the pain became too intense. Meanwhile, her aunt would visit her mother each morning to make sure got what she needed at home.

 

If the worst happened soon, Ruth knew that she would have to handle her responsibilities as bread winner and as a mother to her little sister. It would only be for five or six more years, Ruth thought. Once Rebecca graduated from high school and got a job, Ruth believed she would be able to get on with her own life. Perhaps by that time Ruth would have received a promotion and a raise. Maybe she would even find true love, a responsible man who loved her. Maybe they would save money and start a business and one day begin to raise a family of their own.

 

But that was too far in the future to spend much time there. First, she had to take care of her mother. And her father. And Rebecca. It was tough to think that it would be five or six years before she could begin living her own life. This was one of the times she really needed to talk with a friend and get some encouragement.

 

Ruth finished her juice and watched one more airplane leave the airport and climb higher in the sky. Even though she had many friends, there were times when she felt she was alone in the world. Rachel had moved too far away to see her with any regularity. Her mother was sick and not always able to hold a serious conversation. Because he began drinking early in the day now, and often fell asleep drunk, she could not talk to her father either. It was only Father Seth that she felt she could talk to and he would understand her feelings. Ruth dialed his number.

 

“Hello, Father Seth? I really need to talk to someone. Do you have some time to talk to me this afternoon?” Ruth asked and paused for his reply. “. . . Now? Yes, I can be there in about 30 minutes if the traffic is not too bad. I’m leaving now. Salamat.”

Copyright 2014 by S. R. Morris